i sit in the midst of a battle of the gods. Pele has deemed it time for new ground. Lono agrees, but implores on behalf of the people that she slow her pace. force flies down as the rain shakes our fear, and then eventually, she will come and burn it away.
we breathe as the rain falls.
we find solace as each drop promises a slight reprieve.
we are free, and she wants to make sure we know. that’s all. pushed toward freedom. all those material things do not provide the security we imagine. we are free, and so she burns it away to remind us. death is but a phase, yet it brings soreness, and nothing but faith to cling to.
we mourn the loss of what is familiar.
we are meant to charge through, take out villages of our demons en masse. and then we will rest, and rebuild, and begin the cycle again.
i trust her will.
she, benevolent being with fire in her eyes. my heart skips for her, and i ask for healing. help me descend to the fire chamber, and remain in that river. allow me to flow, fire and earth, along the circuits of power.
i wish to remember the path to freedom.
Above the Line 